Why Woul My Dog Keep Liking His Lips

look Clarity brings no happiness or tranquility to the soul. But we already know all those who are able to see the world without frills. Things as well, as they are, are almost always painful. And the clearer you see the small fraction of the world that we have access, we
more becoming insignificant in one of their borders. From the border, which is the very abyss from which one can jump, the black is seen as a dark color resources are contributing to the next more blackness. But if that is the clarity, the dark view of things, seen from the vantage point of how I there is nothing that is not because there is something else, the appearance of this speech is nothing but the oxymoron.

Another unsuccessful clarity is the acquired inability to act against what is one way and can not be otherwise. From here things are certain, conclusive, heading toward a fate that can not be saved. Neither the gods of Olympus were exempt from knowing under what they called, almost apocalyptic destiny. And each of us
wonder what will be ours, but this question is unsolvable. Only those who are next to or in front, in the thread that runs along the line, they can discern what will happen. But you can not ask face to face without the vanity is offended. We affirm therefore that from the eye itself, the future does not exist and that life, understood as the live (not metaphysical), not
hold of that sense in retrospect. That made sense or that another consequence or a cause. But without the understanding of these two tools gives us the intellect to enjoy the passing of time, nothing exists and nothing is understandable.
known is tied hard and sad. Understand, at one stage, the reins of
's life can never be taken as a Heideggerian authentic life. We're just debris, crumbs, bits of bygone times that were selectively etched in our memory, and perhaps anyone else's. Unshared memories, unremembered events have no meaning whatsoever. We can not hear the speech on the past but this is the case that Recordant are at least two. Impotence against the narrative itself of who we are. We can describe as the product of some events that made us that way. We thought we could describe as a product of events that made us that way. But the skeptical attitude of the listener is vital. Necessary. Insurmountable. Hence the question about the self is safe, colorless and tasteless.

happens with humans as with houses. Everyone vouyeurs inclinations.
see the facade, the windows, maybe the lights of a room. But we do not know how the inside, or who lives there, or what connections are established between things or people, or the provisions of objects ... We know nothing. If we think of an octopus, no one asked "How?". We assume that the ostensive definition is the same octopus. It costs more to tear down a house
to kill an octopus.
Our lives are just tests of 4300
that words written on a piece of text that is
and is the default.

Humans love what we know and what we know are nothing but extensions of
ourselves. A home, a pet, a friend ... Perhaps there are those who believe that a vision like this sin of ego, but imposes on us a clear view this true humble opinion as politically incorrect
especially in the case of individuals. When something you loved away from us is no longer an appendage of our existence. That is when we feel sorrow and hatred because
then be us grow, because being left shows us our condition of troops.